The wheels drift
Along the smooth tar-seal
Swaying me who lies in the plush seats
With the sun
Glaring through the clean windshield
Ceasing strong winds
That would surely suffocate me
And cold that would raise my skin
As The wheels drift
Along smooth tar-seal
YOU ARE READING
The Big Depressi
PoetryThese are some sad poems and some random imagery ones (light mention of suicide)
